The Starlight Whispered to Me
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Because she was different, because she was special. Because she knew the boundaries and when to cross them


_**Written for the 'Color Competition' by the Empress Empoleon, for the category 'indigo, positive' (write about Luna Lovegood). Don't own HP, Rowling does. Enjoy. **_

….

Because she was beautiful, he could not stay away. Because she was different, he could not help himself. Her grace, her charm. She was pretty and she was smart. (She was flighty, she was mad.) She had golden hair and stormy eyes, and she had a long thin figure that made people look twice. She was beautiful and she was innocent. Because she was Luna, he was her sun.

Luna, who danced in the snow, who burnt cakes and gave the neighborhood dogs a combination of eggs and cheese ever day. Luna, who had managed to fly a broomstick into a cow field, and promptly managed to befriend them all. Luna, who wanted to ride dragons and who, even now, believed in the magic of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

"_The stars tell me secrets_," he told her one day over breakfast. It was a common thing for the two of them to recite poetry during meal times, or when walking through the fields. He had found a new poem recently, and thought it rather strange. Different, like Luna.

"Oh?" Luna asked, raising one pale eyebrow at him. "Go on, I'd like to hear the rest. What secrets do the stars tell you? What do they whisper?"

"_The moonlight gleamed upon my face, starlight whispered to me. The wind whistled through the trees, and the wolves howled back. 'Mourn us, they cried, their tears forming rivers. Rivers that carried the fish far away..._ That's all I remember, sorry." She nodded, and recited a poem by Emily Brontë, and the morning continued on like normal.

But, for the rest of the day, the beginnings of a poem were stuck in Luna's head, and she murmured them to herself, wondering if she could find the poem amongst all the many books the two of them had collected over the years. Surely such a feat would be rather impossible? But Luna, who did not necessarily always believe in such frivolous things as _impossible_, wandered into the study, and spent many hours looking. Eventually, the lights had to be turned on, because the sun had set and the moon (_Luna, _she always greeted it. _Good evening, Luna._) had now taken its place in the sky.

Finally she found it in an old, tattered green book. The author's name was smudged, and she could just make it out-_Damacus. _

_The stars tell me secrets, _

_Secrets they told me. _

_Of darkness and light,_

_and of big things to be. _

_The Moonlight gleamed upon my face, _

_the starlight whispered to me. _

_The wind whistled through the trees, _

_and the wolves howled back._

_'Mourn us!' they cried, _

_their tears forming rivers. _

_Rivers that carried the fish far away, _

_Rivers that made the oceans jealous. _

_And the wolves, with their tears, _

_and their wet, wet fur,_

_cried out for the world to end. _

_'Mourn us,' they said._

_'Mourn us when the last wolf falls._

_When the trees no longer carry wind_

_and the stars forget how to gleam. _

_When the secrets of the world _

_have been revealed to man-_

_Mourn us, for our treasure has been lost.' _

When Luna was done, she shut the book, put it back on the shelf and went to bed. That night, she dreamed of crying wolves and whispering starlight. She breathed in the smell of the trees and heard the whispers of the wind. She hoped-she pleaded-that the secrets of the world would never be revealed to man, lest the beauty leave from the world.

Some things were not to be known, after all. Not even by the curious or those who did not believe in _impossible. _Not by the graceful or the charming, or the different. Not even Luna wanted to know. And he loved her for the way she had realised her limits.

….

_**The poem is actually mine. I just made up an author out of embarrassment for my awful poetry skills. I wrote the poem for class a few years ago, and I'm really ashamed of it. Not really going to say who the 'he' is in this-leave that up to you. **_


End file.
